Comfortable
by Jacinda
Summary: A little follow up to the season 4 premier. Jordan-Woody pairing.


Author's Note: I needed to write this to make up for the bad relationship karma that my story Consequences has caused. :)

I stand in the doorway. I'm not quite sure what to say. This, again, is all my fault. I was scared this evening; scared of my best friend. I was scared of being alone with him for the evening. These were new social boundaries that we had never bother to explore before; before I was arrested, before my brother committed suicide, before my father disappeared from my life.

Garrett forced me to take a two week leave of absence. He encouraged me to mourn the loss of my brother. Garrett said that it was time that I mourned the loss of my mother. I sat in my apartment waiting for my father to come home. I made arrangements for James. It didn't need to be anything fancy; I would be the only person there. I ran the Pogue; I ran the Pogue the best way that I knew how. I spent three days engrossed in funeral arrangements and the finer points of managing a bar. It was a crash course that I refused to fail.

The fourth day was different. I stood in the cemetery next to my mother's grave. I gave the nod for the priest to start the private memorial. I stood stoically. I willed myself not to cry. I needed to be strong; I needed to prove to myself that I could keep things together. After all, it was Dad's turn to run. It was only fair to let him run; he had let me run several times before.

The service was short; it lasted for maybe 15 minutes. I held the urn containing the brother that I spent so many years praying for. When I was five, I asked Santa for a brother for Christmas. I wanted someone to play with. At that age, my understanding of the politics of relationships was murky. I didn't realize that my mother wasn't playing fair; she had brought Malden into her bed more times than any five year old should know about. I thought a little brother would make everything right. It would make the other man go away. I look back wondering about my own paternity; it's a question that I would have never thought to ask, but it was a question that was becoming more and more tangible.

I sprinkled James next to my mother. I prayed that in death he could find the mother he never had. I prayed for his serenity; I asked that God grant him the peace that was not allotted for him on Earth. Only then, did I begin to cry. I cried for the brother I never knew. The priest asked me if I needed spiritual counsel. I said that I needed the strength to move forward.

Child, look inside yourself for peace; look to the Lord for strength and comfort. The priest's words were eloquent. I wasn't sure if they were truthful.

The fifth day marked the first time that I had gone to mass in well over fifteen years. Paul greeted me at the door; he said it was good to see me again. Paul said that he was praying for me; he had heard about James. All I could say was 'thank you, Father.'

I took my seat in a pew in the back. I was uncomfortable, but I wasn't sure where else to turn for the strength that I felt I was so severely lacking. I had hurt so many people in my selfish pursuit of answers. I wasn't ready to run to Garrett, Nigel or Lily; the wounds had not begun to heal yet. I had kept everything together . . . barely. The Pogue was running seamlessly. I would spend my nights there bartending or working on the books. The memorial went seamlessly, but I felt like something inside of me was missing.

"Jordan," Woody said as he sat next to me. He held my hand the entire mass. He took me to breakfast afterward. He asked how I was doing. Woody asked why I didn't tell anyone about the memorial service. I said that it just didn't feel right. I wanted to do something small and peaceful. Woody said that he wanted to be there with me; he said that he knew Garrett and Nigel would have wanted to be there too.

Lines were crossed that day. I had these boundaries that I so rarely allowed people to cross. I didn't let people see me cry. I didn't let people know that I was hurting. I didn't let people in. I kept my defenses mounted at all times. Today, I let Woody hold my hand. I cried when I told him about the memorial service. We ended up at his apartment, as mine was in disrepair. He asked me if I heard from Max. He asked me if I needed help at the Pogue. I was so emotionally exhausted that I barely said anything.

We watched a baseball game on television. I fell asleep with my head on his shoulder. He let me sleep all afternoon. I woke in the early afternoon when it was time for me to get to the Pogue. I needed to set up for tonight. Woody offered to help. I asked him what he knew about bartending; he said nothing. I invited him along.

We spent the next week acting like nothing had happened. We went out to dinner; we watched movies. My relationship with Woody had become comfortable again. For so long it had been strained. I had lied to him about Malden and James. I never told him that Malden had drugged me. I'm sure he found out about it somehow. The only reason anyone found out that I had been drugged was because Garrett found me stumbling out of the alleyway.

I went back to work one week later. Everyone handled me with kid gloves. No one wanted to be the person that set me off. I worked diligently. I worked inside of the rules. Garrett appreciated the change. He started to give me more challenging cases. Garrett said that he was impressed with my new attitude and my ability to prioritize, but he missed the 'old' Jordan.

Woody stayed with me at the Pogue most nights. He would stay until midnight. He helped me bartend or he would make sure that all my shipments were scheduled and running on time. On Fridays, Woody would stay until I was finished closing the bar. He would ask me to dance. Sometimes he would hold me long after the song was over. Woody would drive me home. Sometimes, I would invite him up to my apartment for coffee. More often than not, we would fall asleep on my couch while we talked about the week, work, or the weather. On Sundays, we went to church together. It was something that was becoming comfortable. I didn't have a religious epiphany, but it felt good to believe that all this pain and anger was part of a greater plan. Sometimes the road would be rough, but that would eventually give way to a greener pasture where I could reclaim the serenity that I was lacking.

I knew it took a lot of courage for him to ask me to his award ceremony. I knew that I wanted to be there for him. Woody had done so much for me; this was something that I owed him. The way he smiled; Woody made it so easy to get caught up in the excitement. I went with him when he picked out his tuxedo. He said he hadn't worn one of these since prom. I told him he looked handsome. He blushed. That was the first time that I realized we had crossed the boundaries; I was letting him become part of my life. I was letting him into my heart; I was falling in love with him.

Woody said he wanted to help me pick out a dress. I told him that it would be a surprise. He would need to wait. Woody said that he could picture how beautiful I would be.

The night of the award ceremony I was nervous. I was letting my head talk my heart out of what I was feeling. Every time I loved, some got hurt. Last time, a woman tried to commit suicide. I ran away for years because of the shame that I felt. I didn't want to hurt Woody. I was terrified of hurting him.

I didn't put on the dress that I had spent well over two weeks picking out. It wasn't like me to be concerned about what I was wearing or about what other people would think. I was happy that Garrett called me to go on a pick up with Bug. I tried to talk to Bug, but he didn't get involved in office gossip, nor did he give advice. I called Woody; I didn't need to feign regret . . . my regret was real, but my fear was overpowering.

Now, I stand here. I'm frozen in the doorway of Garrett's office. My fear has given way to regret. I was jealous. I was mad as hell at myself; it should have been me with Woody, not Devan. It should have been me.

"Jordan, you want to go for a drink?" Garret asked.

"Yeh, let's go," I replied as I laced my arm in Garrett's. We walked down the hallway silently. The thoughts reeling in my head weren't silent. I had screwed up. I may have really screwed up badly this time.


End file.
